莲火
by coeurgryffondor
Summary: She would never be an Airbender, but maybe that made her the greatest namesake of all. / Past Pemzin, old Tenzin, OCs galore.


Author's note: First character of the title is Chinese for "lotus", which is what the name Pema means, and the second is "fire" as used for Book Three of TLA. If you want to know what the other names mean, you can feel free to ask.

I've all the Pemzin feelings sometimes because this family is seriously my favorite. I got to thinking about who each of their kids may grow up to marry, and how I want another baby by the end of the show from those two. (Well, I want another baby for every book, but that's because I love babies.) So I give you this, with some sadness but some fluffy bits too. Just wanted to flesh out a little bit of life after grandkids.

* * *

**莲****/****火**

She finds her grandfather, where else, but on the back deck looking out over the family. Her mother leads the younger children in their practice, her older aunt speaking with those cousins nearly ready to be made airbending masters.

Pema would never be one of those, leaning against the rail beside Grandfather Tenzin and laying her head upon his shoulder. Her black hair she has pulled back into a loose plait, gold ribbon threaded throughout. Fringe hides her forehead; it sets her apart from the older women of her family with tattoos they wear proudly.

"Your father is well?"

"Very," the young woman sighs. "He was sorry he could not come, but the Fire Lord's son still has need of him."

A hand reaches out to stroke Pema's cheek, Grandfather Tenzin smiling despite the sadness she knows he carries in his heart. "You are pitying me. If you are pitying me, my child, it must be very bad." The eldest grandchild laughs.

Both pairs of blue eyes fall over the scene before them, the family moving about. Aunt Ikki's daughter and younger son would be airbenders but the oldest was an earthbender, like his father. And Uncle Meelo's newborn Aang was most definitely an airbender though Pema's beautiful cousin, holding her young sibling and laughing sweetly, was the only non-bender in the family so far. Not that anyone cared; if anything, they all loved her more for it, Uncle Rohan's son sitting beside her to keep her company.

Her mother looks up, waving to her father and eldest. "I always felt Jinora took the most after me," Grandfather Tenzin says for no particular reason, Pema watching him speak. His gray beard isn't quite as long as she remembers it, because Serinda, his youngest daughter, likes to cut it shorter. "Your grandmother said it was silly to name you for her, when surely you would be nothing like my Pema was." Grandfather Tenzin sighs and so his granddaughter takes his hand, kissing his cheek.

"But you've always said I do remind you of Grandmother Pema." He smiles, the skin of his face sagging with happy wrinkles.

"We were wrong, and it felt good."

Her brother Gyatso was the first grandchild to be given his tattoos a year earlier when he had turned sixteen. He steps forward beside their mother to assist the smaller ones, their twin sisters picking on him. Nyima pulls him left when he calls her Dawa, Dawa tugging him right when he calls her Nyima.

Pema would never be an airbender. Like her earthbending cousin, she'd taken after her father and though her firebending is unique, highly influenced by airbending and her family's ways, it's still not airbending. Some days Pema takes pride in that; other days she feels like maybe she was created wrong.

"Pema Jinora," Grandfather Tenzin says with force and Pema stands a little straighter at that, turning to face him. His hands fall on her shoulders, squeezing. "I'm about to say something because I mean it, not because I'm planning on dying any time soon, so do not become upset." She nods, rolling her eyes. Sometimes her cousins could be dramatic when their grandfather complimented them. "I am proud of you, Pema. I have always been proud of you. In a way, it would have been wrong had you been an airbender; you gave your grandmother great joy in your strength, in your perseverance, in your love, but also in being an outsider in the Air Nomad's world. You do her memory proud."

Bowing Pema receives a kiss to the head. In the distance she can hear Serinda playing the flute, the baby giggling, the little ones sitting. She can hear her brother and their older cousins teasing each other, her mother and aunt and uncles standing together as the family falls silent and the melody lifts their spirits. It is a song of survival, of memorial, dedicated to the memory of their one-year-parted grandmother.

Stepping to Grandfather Tenzin Pema hugs him with all she has. "I love you Grandpa."

"And I love you, my little lotus flower."


End file.
